


Stop The World, Turn Out the Sun

by elrhiarhodan



Series: In War, as is in Peace [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Historical, Hartwin, Injured Eggsy, M/M, Masturbation, Not Tailors, PTSD, Recovery, The Great War, War Injuries, alternative universe, coming home, don't be afraid to touch your meat, mmom, not spies, wwi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 21:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14602569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrhiarhodan/pseuds/elrhiarhodan
Summary: The sequel toLet Me Live in Your Country, Let Me Sleep By Your Shores, Eggsy comes home from the war and tries to restart his life, but he's not the same man that had left, not physically or emotionally.





	Stop The World, Turn Out the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 9 of the 2018 Edition of Merry Month of Masturbation, for the prompt "Peace". If there's enough interest, I may expand this AU, as I'm always a sucker for stories set in the halls of academia.

Eggsy takes a deep breath and stands in front of the door to the Senior Common Room at Balliol College. It's 1919 and the world has been at peace for more than a year. But whether Eggsy's been at peace for that long is another story.

Before the War, Eggsy had been a junior lecturer in Classical History – focusing on Roman political philosophy. He'd published a few papers that had been well received, and had expected to spend most of his life in academics, publishing and teaching, traveling when he could, working his way up the department ladder. 

But the chaos on the Continent changed all of that. Eggsy couldn't hide behind Oxford's dreaming spires and do nothing, when other men – with far more to lose – fought and died.

Eggsy's parents had accepted his decision, not that they had much choice. Eggsy had been of age and would be commissioned as a captain after a stint at Sandhurst. It had been his friends who'd done their best to convince him of the foolishness of war. They'd tried and failed and now, five years later, Eggsy has to think that they'd been right. He should have stayed home – if he had, he'd still have his health and his sanity.

But he can't undo the past, he can only move forward.

So he pushes open the door to the Senior Common Room to retake his place in a world that might not welcome him back.

To Eggsy's shock, everyone present, even that old windbag, Chester King, rises to his feet and starts clapping. There's a loud pop and Eggsy flinches at the noise – it's just James opening a bottle of champagne. It seems as if everyone wants to touch him, shake his hand, to congratulate him on his act of heroism. Eggsy wants to scream that it had been stupidity, not bravery. He wants to run and hide, but stands his ground, sweating under his collar. Harry comes to the rescue, gently easing the men back, giving Eggsy the space he needs.

Someone pushes a glass of bubbly into his hand and Eggsy takes a sip. He's always loved champagne, and the sharp tang seems to take the edge off the moment. Under Harry's watchful eye, colleagues approach him more mannerly and welcome him back. The sentiment seems genuine, which helps with Eggsy's self-control. 

By the time dinner is served, Eggsy feels rather normal – or as normal as he can with a painful limp and a missing eye. He's seated next to Alastair Morton, a Maths fellow and elder brother to Eggsy's friend, Roxanne's; James Spenser, Alastair's best friend and compatriot, is on Eggsy's other side. Like always, James does most of the talking, which no one minds, since he always has an interesting story to tell. Eggsy relaxes a bit more. 

_There's no danger here._

The food is decent, certainly better than anything Eggsy ate in Belgium, but nowhere near as fine as what he'd enjoyed at Harry's house on Lake Windermere.

He'd spent most of the last year there, recovering his health as much as possible. Learning to walk again, learning how to see the world through damaged eyes. Learning how to breathe out of lungs damaged by mustard gas. Learning how to sleep without waking up screaming, which is a skill Eggsy can only master when Harry is sleeping next to him.

For his part, Harry had urged him to stay in Cumbria, at his house on Lake Windermere; he'd offered to give up his fellowship and retire. They'd live together and love together under no one's watchful and censorious eye. But Eggsy couldn't allow that. Harry loves teaching, he loves informing fresh minds and bringing out the best in his students. Harry loves the give and take in the Senior Common Room, arguing with his colleagues, writing and researching, all the hallmarks of an academic life. Eggsy can't take that away from Harry, and honestly, he misses it, too. 

And so here he is, back at Balloil, with a light teaching schedule for the Michaelmas term. 

A scout places a dish with the evening's pudding in front of Eggsy – a lemon treacle – but Eggsy doesn't indulge. He's tired and is beginning to feel overwhelmed.

James, noticing his lack of interest in the sweet, asks, "All right there, Unwin?" 

"Yeah, I'll be fine. You know how it is."

James grimaces, "Honestly, I don't, but I can empathize. You're looking a bit gray around the edges. I don't think Chester will call you out if you leave before he dismisses us."

Eggsy glances up the table, where Chester is holding court with the senior dons, including Harry. Feeling far more daring that he'd ever been before the War, Eggsy gets up and goes to bid Chester goodnight. The old man gives him a solemn look and then tells him to have a good night's rest.

It's an odd thing, to still be so bound by protocol and rank in the civilian world. 

It is a long, slow walk back to his rooms, but the night is pleasant and Eggsy enjoys the peace and the cool darkness after the noisy chaos of the Senior Common Room. As much as he had loved staying in the Lake District, Eggsy's movements had been restricted after sunset. He isn't quite crippled, but he still has trouble navigating uneven paths, especially in the darkness. Here, the grounds here are level and paved and perfectly maintained.

The porter bids Eggsy a good evening and Eggsy heads up the stairs. It's not at all a matter of chance that his rooms are next to Harry's. He navigates through the crates of books and trunks of personal goods that still litter the outer room, before kicking off his shoes and collapsing onto the bed with a grateful sigh. The moon is a bright and friendly eye, keeping Eggsy company as it rises over the ancient spires. 

The moon's journey eventually takes it out of range of Eggsy's window and Eggsy finally stirs himself to get undressed. He closes the curtains and flicks on a lamp, sending light and shadow across the room. He's down to his trousers and shirtsleeves when he hears the outer door open.

"Harry?"

Of course it's Harry and he's leaning against the door frame. "Just wanted to make sure you made it back safely."

"I did." Eggsy spreads out his arms to prove his words. "Made it home, safe and sound."

"Good." Harry doesn't move from his position. "I'm sorry to have taken so long. Garfield was a bit of a prosy boor tonight and Chester had been willing to indulge him, keeping everyone seated for far too long."

"It's all right, I didn't mind the solitude." Eggsy unbuttons his shirt and tosses it onto a chair. His vest joins it and Eggsy's naked from the waist up. He's proud of how he looks – it's taken a long time and a lot of effort to get back to the man he'd once been.

But Harry still doesn't move, except to shift his stance. 

Eggsy flicks his gaze to Harry's trousers and is pleased by the _developments_ there. "Enjoying the show?"

"Very much so."

Eggsy knows that they can't be as they'd been in the solitude of the Lake District, where the nearest neighbor was miles away and the servants were old family retainers who couldn't be shocked out of their loyalty.

But here, back in the civilized world, they have to behave with some amount of circumspection. While the walls aren't thin and there are quite a few other members of the Senior Common Room who are like Harry and Eggsy, but it wouldn't do to flaunt their relationship.

Homosexuality is still a criminal offense.

And yet … "Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to join me?"

"I will, eventually." Harry smiles and Eggsy savors how that makes him feel. Daring and whole, like the man he'd been before the war had stolen his youth.

"Perhaps you need some incentive." Eggsy cups his groin over his trousers, massaging his cock. "What can I give you?"

Harry shakes his head. "You lovely, wonderful, incorrigible boy. You've already given me everything I've ever dreamed of."

Eggsy laughs and steps back towards the bed; feeling very much like a boy until his bum leg refuses to cooperate after so many hours of good behavior. That brings Harry into the bedroom and he helps Eggsy rid himself of his trousers, pants and socks.

"You are my perfect Galahad, Harry Hart." 

"Some Galahad. In truth, I'm just a dirty old man lusting after youth." 

Eggsy's prepared to argue, but Harry starts pulling his clothes off, dropping them carelessly on the floor. The lamplight cast a warm, benevolent glow over Harry's body, softening the planes and blurring the scars.

They are something of a mirror-matched set. Harry's missing his left eye and Eggsy's right one is gone, courtesy of a faulty gas mask. A bullet from a Boer rifle has given Harry a weatherwise ache in his right shoulder and German shrapnel ruined Eggsy's left knee. 

To Eggsy's delight, Harry joins him on the bed and straddles Eggsy's hips. There cocks are touching and Eggsy shivers in delight.

Eggsy reaches into the nightstand and retrieves a small jar of cream. One of his doctors had told him to use it on his knee to keep the scar tissue soft and flexible, but Eggsy and Harry have found that it's actually quite perfect for sex.

Eggsy opens jar and smears some cream on his palms and Harry does the same.

"Touch yourself, darling."

"Only if you do, too." Eggsy's breath catches as he watches Harry stroke his own cock, bringing it to full hardness.

Eggsy has to work a bit to get there. His mind is willing and eager, but his body doesn't want to cooperate. Days like today, full of activity and stress, seem to work against his pleasure. After too many minutes of futile stroking, Eggsy gives up.

"Sorry, Haz. Seems I'm all talk, no action." Eggsy feels like a failure and he wipes his hands on the sheet. He'd roll over and call it a night, except Harry's still on top of him.

Harry stops mid-stroke and eases himself off of Eggsy, only to settle down next to him. "It's all right, darling."

"No need for you to stop, you were enjoying yourself."

"It'll keep." Harry sighs and presses a kiss against Eggsy's neck, just under his ear. Eggsy shivers and his cock twitches with renewed interest.

And then goes soft. Eggsy sighs and rolls over, letting Harry spoon against him and use him if he wants.

"Don't worry about it. It's all part of the healing process."

"I know, you've told me that a hundred times. I just want …" Eggsy trails off, unwilling to complete the thought; he's lucky to be alive and mostly whole. To complain about this seems like he's thumbing his nose at fate. 

And it's not like he can't get it up, it's just that failure is so unpredictable and disheartening.

Harry holds Eggsy gently, rubbing his scruffy check against his shoulder. "Tomorrow will be better, I promise.

__

FIN


End file.
